A Very TF2 Christmas
by Rose Starre
Summary: Christmas hangs in the air as thickly as the falling snow. When a blizzard on Christmas Eve keeps the BLU Team from going to battle, they decide to actually celebrate Christmas together for once. (Worry not! I have posted the correct story this time!)


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Scout pressed his face to the frozen pane of glass. The blizzard outside showed no signs of letting up, instead choosing to swirl onwards in its seemingly eternal quest down to Earth. The young merc groaned; it looked like there would be no battles today. And it was these Christmas battles that motivated Scout to stay, as opposed to spending the holiday with his ma.

"Scout, come!" Heavy cried. "Engineer is reading story!"

Scout exhaled noisily, but followed Heavy to another room. There, Engineer was seated on a chair in front of the rest of the team. A fire blazed within a fireplace nearby. Engie had a book in his hand and was obviously waiting to begin. Scout seated himself with a huff and Engie started to read:

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the base, not a creature was stirrin' not even the Scout. The stockin's were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Heavy soon would be there.

"The mercs were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of bullets danced in their heads. And the Administrator in her kerchief and a rather cool hat had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

"When out on the battlements there arose such a clatter, Ah sprang from mah bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window Ah flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

"The moon on the blanket of new-fallen snow gave the luster of midday to objects below. When what to mah wonderin' eyes should appear, but a far-off sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

"With a rather large driver so ungainly and slow, Ah knew in a moment it must be St. Heavy. (No offence to Heavy, it's just how he is.) Less rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called 'em by name.

"'Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen! To top of porch! To top of wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!'

"As dry leaves before the mild breeze fly, when they meet with an obstacle climb to the sky. So up to the base-top the coursers they flew, with a sleigh full of hats and St. Heavy, too.

"And then, in a twinklin', Ah heard on the roof the prancin' and pawin' of each little hoof. As Ah drew in mah head and was turnin' around, down the chimney St. Heavy came with a crash.

"He was all dressed in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of hats he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just openin' his pack.

"His eyes, how they glared! His scowl, how frightenin'! He lugged around a big, imposin' gun to fend off the enemies. His teeth gnashed like he was gnawin' a bone, and the beard on his chin was as nonexistent as a unicorn.

"A gnawed stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth and the smoke encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a great round belly that shook when he laughed, like a bowlful o' spiteful jelly.

"He was chubby and plump, a twisted old elf, and Ah laughed when Ah saw 'im, in spite o' mahself. A wink o' his eye and a twist o' his head soon set me straight; Ah had much to dread.

"He spoke not a word, but set straight to his work and filled all the stockin's, then turned with a jerk. And, layin' a finger aside o' his nose, and givin' a nod, up the chimney he rose.

"He clambered to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down o' a thistle. But Ah heard him exclaim, ere he drove outta sight, 'Merry Christmas to all, now you're all gonna die!' The End," Engineer finished, closing the book with a bang.

Heavy laughed uproariously. "Oh," he chuckled. "That slaps me on the knee."

"When is dis snow gonna end?!" Scout cried in dismay, obviously having not listened to the story at all.

"In Russia, where Heavy is from," Heavy said, "Snow fall for days. Heavy make many snowmen with snow."

"Dis ain't Russia, Pal," Scout grumbled.

"Vhat Herr Heavy might be trying to say," Medic pointed out, "Is zhat it doesn't really matter how long zhe snow falls. It _is_ Christmas Eve, after all."

Sniper smirked. "I've got an idea," he announced. "Why don't we do something Christmas-like, like makin' cookies or somethin'?"

"I guess dat ain't such a bad idea," Scout begrudgingly agreed.

"Heavy like gingerbread!" Heavy exclaimed.

Engineer chuckled. "Ah guess it's settled then," he said. "Let's go!" The nine mercs then headed to the kitchen to make cookies.

xX(In the Kitchen)Xx

The mercs managed to scratch up the required ingredients for the gingerbread cookies. "Alrighty then," Engineer said, throwing the ingredients together into a mixing bowl. "What does it say to do next?"

Sniper examined the recipe book carefully. "Eh, it says to 'mix thoroughly'," he stated.

Engineer grinned wickedly and revved up his Gunslinger. "This dough won't know what hit it," he chuckled darkly, pushing the mechanical hand into the mixture.

"Duck and cover!" Soldier screeched as mixture flew everywhere. He threw himself at the floor, clamping his helmet tightly onto his head.

"My eye!" Heavy cried. "It burns!" Some of the mixture had gotten into his eye and irritated it intensely. "Doktor! Help!"

"I _vould_," Medic said. "If you vould just _hold still!_" Heavy ran around all the more madly. With a well-timed burst of speed, Medic managed to catch him, but the Russian wrenched himself away. Heavy continued to hurry along blindly, crashing into everyone that got into his way. Eventually, he smashed into a wall and fell over.

Finally, the dough was well mixed. Turning around and seeing the slight turmoil behind him, Engineer exclaimed, "What in tarnation? It looks like a tornado hit!"

"No," Scout grumbled, getting up from where Heavy had pushed him over. "Dat mixture of yours got into Heavy's eye and he ran us all over!"

"Okay," Engineer said confusedly, turning his attention back to the dough. "Now we gotta take this out and hit it a couple-a times with a rolling pin, right Sniper?"

"Yeah," the Australian answered, looking back at the recipe. "Ya have to do it _carefully_, though. No more usin' that machine."

"But this is mah buildin' hand," Engineer grumbled, shaking the dough out of the bowl and taking the rolling pin awkwardly in his left hand.

"Allow me," Spy said, abruptly snatching the rolling pin. He somehow flattened the dough without incident.

Heavy, his eye now healed, popped up. "Yay!" he cried joyously, "Is time to make shapes with dough!"

The metal shapes were dug out of the drawer. Mostly, they were the traditional Christmas shapes, such as angels, stars, and trees. There were a select few, however, that Engineer himself had cobbled together, such as guns and hats.

The mercs pounced at the shapes, each picking one that appealed to him. Demoman held a tree, Heavy was grinning down at a present, and Scout (Who was trying to be funny, as usual) had a candy cane hanging from the tip of his nose. Spy glared at the star in his hand, Engineer beamed at a wrench, Sniper had fished out an angel, Soldier had a shotgun-looking one, and Pyro had a typical gingerbread man shape. Medic had discovered a rather dove-shaped one. (To be honest, that was actually a mostly-random choosing.)

Taking turns for once, the mercs each pressed the tin shapes into the dough. Carefully, they tore away the excess dough and gently removed the shapes to transfer to the pan. This process was repeated several times without any notable occurrences.

xX(Back in the Living Room)Xx

As the cookies cooked in the oven, the mercs wandered back into the living room. They decided to converse beside the fire. "I'm _bored_," Scout groaned, draping himself over a chair.

"Engineer should read story again!" Heavy exclaimed.

"Ah ain't readin' all night, Heavy," Engineer said. Heavy looked disappointed.

After a minute of silence, Spy asked, "Anyone have any brilliant ideas?"

Naught but silence answered him. Suddenly, Medic's eyes lit up. "Ich habe ein idee!" he announced. In answer to the others' confusion, he translated himself, "I have an idea!" He excitedly continued, "Back in Germany, ve decorated pine trees vith candles and other things. Ve could do zhat!"

"Ya mean decorating a Christmas tree?" Scout pointed out.

"If zhat's what you call it," Medic answered, "Zhen yes."

The others contemplated this for a minute, then readily agreed. "What could possibly go wrong?" Demoman reasoned. (Pfft… _Everything_… Don't get me started, Demo…)

Heavy tramped outside with Pyro's hatchet to chop down a pine tree. The others spread out to find anything that could pass as an ornament or candle. In an old, dusty corner of the basement, Sniper came across several boxes of Christmas decorations, seemingly abandoned for years.

"Hey," he called, "I found some!" The others rallied to gather all they could carry.

Once they had carried the decorations upstairs, they took inventory of what they had. There were quite a few round ornaments, as well as a number of shaped ones, such as reindeer, sleighs, and angels.

Someone had found a tree stand and some cloth with which to cover it. They began to set this up in a corner. Suddenly, they heard a deep voice faintly grumbling, "Too many leetle _baby_ trees…"

Heavy trudged into the room, dragging a pine tree behind him. He, having miraculously not broken the hatchet, returned Pyro's weapon. The little pyromaniac squirmed with delight, mumbling, "Pfank you!"

The others helped the Russian push the tree into the stand. Engineer drew the cloth over the stand after Soldier had poured some water for the tree. The mercenaries then began to wrap lights about the tree's limbs.

They left the plug alone for a while. During this time, they hung ornaments of all colors and shapes. Heavy was charged with the ones that were to be hung high up. Engineer, being the shortest of the mercs, had the easiest time with the ones hung on the lower branches.

There were two tree toppers among the boxes, a star and an angel. The mercs instantly began to take sides; some opting for the star, others for the angel. Since there were nine of them, they reasoned, one would have to be picked. Indeed, the angel was the one that wound up atop the tree.

Heavy took the angel in his hands and was about to situate it on the topmost branch, when he took note of a dove nestled where the angel was to go. "Bird is in way!" Heavy cried in dismay.

"No matter," Medic said dismissively, "I'll get him." He turned to the dove and called, "Archimedes! Come down from zhere! You have quite zhe habit of getting in zhe vay, don't you?" The dove cooed cheerily and came down. Heavy was then able to settle the angel on the top of the tree.

When Engineer had plugged the lights in, the tree lit up in multi-colored brilliance. Light glinted off of the ornaments and the angel's wings gave off an almost otherworldly glow. The mercs stood back to admire their handiwork.

The scent of the pine intermingled with the aroma of cooking gingerbread brought warm memories of a peaceful time before the war. Several mercs found themselves smiling fondly. Medic, cradling Archimedes, hastily brushed aside tears brought on by the manifestation of the kindhearted holiday.

The sharp cry of the oven's timer tore the moment to shreds. The mercs forcibly shook themselves free of the old memories and, as though the moment had never occurred, hurried into the kitchen.

xX(In the Kitchen)Xx

The cookies were pulled out of the oven, one pan at a time. The gingerbread was then spread out to cool for a while. "We will decorate cookies, da?" Heavy asked hopefully.

"Why not?" Engineer answered with a shrug.

"YES!" Heavy cried, thrilled.

Scout rolled his eyes. "Aren't we a bit old for dis?" he asked grumpily.

"Yes," Sniper answered. "No one's here to stop us, though." He shrugged and smirked tauntingly at Scout, who stuck his tongue out in response.

"Aren't ya too old for _that_?" Engineer questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Shut up," Scout replied sullenly.

They then initiated a search for frosting and sprinkles and the like. This stuff was miraculously found in the back of a cabinet, hidden behind the sugar. "How do we always find these things in the strangest o' places?" Demo asked, staring intently at the yellow frosting in his hand.

The others shrugged and set the other cookie-decorating materials on the table. By now, the cookies were sufficiently cooled and decorating could begin.

Decoration of the cookies promptly commenced. But, something didn't seem quite right. "I see the problem," Sniper noted.

"What?" Scout muttered, slapping some yellow frosting onto a star-shaped cookie.

"We don't have any music," Sniper stated, smirking.

"That would explain quite a bit," Engineer responded brightly. "Ah'll go get the stereo." With that, he rushed off to find aforesaid stereo.

As soon as he returned, he coaxed sound out of the machine. The opening chords of "The First Noel" rolled out of the speakers, easing whatever tensions still lingered.

As the song continued, even Scout began to enjoy the activity he'd been practically forced into. The mercs, usually quite reserved in situations such as this, gradually began to strike up conversations.

During a lull in the discussions, Engineer commented, "Well, this sure is nice."

"That it is," Spy answered, listening serenely to the end of "The First Noel". "That it is."

A second or two of silence passed. Then, a second song rang from the stereo, "Oh Christmas Tree". Medic smirked unobtrusively at Archimedes, who was perched on his shoulder. He, for one, knew the song well, if only in his native language.

As the melody for the song started, Medic, in all truth (No lies!), began to sing, although quietly and in German: „Oh Tannenbaum, oh Tannenbaum, wie schön sind Deine Blätter. Du grünst nicht nur zur Sommerszeit nein auch im Winter wenn es schneit. Oh Tannenbaum, oh Tannenbaum, wie grün sind Deine Blätter."

Heavy, who sat next to the doctor, grinned widely. "Heavy does not understand," he said, "But song is good."

Startled that he'd been heard, but smiling shakily, Medic responded, "Danke, Herr Heavy." Archimedes cooed joyfully.

The blizzard raged on outside, but, in a manger 2000 years in the past, the newborn Christ child smiled. His mother sang quiet lullabies and both his heavenly Father and his earthly one kept silent vigil, while joyous shepherds and angels cried out praises. The child knew that he had come to die and would go as a lamb to the slaughter. For now, however, there was nothing to do but wait until his ministry began.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

And a happy New Year!


End file.
